Everything Shetland

The Curse of the Lurcher

Once again, Loki has managed to cut his leg, presumably from a fence. He returned from his dog walk with the limp he’d just got rid of, and looking very sorry for himself.

According to Richard, the vet shaved, cleaned and stapled the cut, and gave him some antibiotics. As fast as they can go, Lurchers really do seem to be made of tissue paper. Celt probably had more stitches and staples in his head than bone.

Other than that, nothing really happened today, as you might expect. The rain finally reduced to a faint spray, and everything is just grey and soggy.

This afternoon I went into the field to see how the Icelandics were getting on. Rather than coming down to see me or even expressing much interest, it was clear that they all had other preoccupations.

Nevertheless, each one came up for air occasionally to acknowledge my presence and search my jacket for more food.

Guess who’s who.

Here’s Taktur looking dramatic and manly. He didn’t actually jump, if I remember correctly, but I’m sure he likes to think he did.

Next I went over to see Klaengur, who had slightly distanced himself from the others. Needless to say, he was in a similar mood.

While he was otherwise engaged, I had a go at taking another ‘mane picture’ like Mum’s, but it didn’t quite turn out as I’d hoped.

I’m sorry for the lack of interesting content for the last couple of days. It’s very quiet without Mum here. She phoned and said that she’d had the operation and everything is fine. I know BeAnne misses her terribly, and has attached herself to me during the day. Jack is barking furiously at everything that moves, and Loki is still sulking.